Tuesday, January 8, 2008

Dear Producers,

I understand you want to keep money to yourselves. I understand that you think that actual talent is nothing compared to schmoozing and conning people out of money and getting people to do stuff. I understand that you think it's mildly amusing seeing all of those folks on the picket lines. However, you stepped on my toes and depressed my sister, so you all need to come to grips with yourselves.

1) Don't blame the writers for the shutdown. If you had been reasonable about digital media, you would not have caused the shutdown.

2) If I have to pay for a TV show on iTunes or have to watch an ad on your website to watch a show or a clip, aren't you making money? Why would you ever believe that only you (the ones not creating the product, not imagining the stories and words) get to reap the rewards?

3) You shot yourselves in the feet. (Look at that, verb conjugation with agreement!) Because my dears, I don't give a rat's ass about you, but I do give a rat's ass about the writers. My five favorite movies, I know the names of the writers, but I don't know your names. (Brazil by Terry Gilliam and Tom Stoppard and Charles McKeown, Eternal Sunshine for the Spotless Mind by Charlie Kaufman, Amelie by Jean Paul Jeunet and Guillaume Laurant, Fight Club by Jim Uhls [book by Chuck Palaniuk], The New World by Terrence Malick, and Persuasion by Nick Dear [book by Jane Austen]). You will never get our sympathy.

4) You need award shows more than the writers, and you know it. And you are threatening my sister's happiest season now. Because you were silly, the Globes are gone, but you can save the Oscars.

5) I know you don't care about the little folks who don't live in Brentwood or Beverly Hills, however, who's going to print your checks for you now that one of your payroll companies has shut down? Who's going to feed you when the caterers have to find other jobs?

6) On what planet is the American public going to agree with you and not the folks who more closely relate to them? Union is union, kids, and they win.

Sincerely,

me.

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